Breath After Breath
by Jilly-chan
Summary: Ruka came back to the Academy, but what exactly was his relationship with Jury in the past and do they have a future? Reliving the triangle of Shiori/Juri/Ruka.


Breath after Breath  
by Jillian Storm  
  
(Disclaimer: I have an odd fascination for the random characters who show up   
in Utena--they have such an incredibly profound influence on the regulars--even   
if it's only for an episode or two, that meeting can reshape an entire story arch.   
Take Tsuchiya Ruka for example, or on second thought--don't. Just read my   
story. I took the liberty to interpret things creatively as well as sincerely--yes,   
but play along and enjoy. Lyrics courtesy of a high school favorite, Duran   
Duran.)  
  
Ruka:  
  
"Every day I wake up in this room and I don't know where I come from, where   
I'm going to . . . then I hear the voice:  
  
"Believe in miracles--to make your wishes come true."  
  
The hospital walls are sterile white like the sheets of my bed today. The flowers   
are gone from the bedstand, cards have been removed from the cork board, even   
the curtains have been closed cutting off the sunlight that I had desperately   
wanted during my stay. I swung the satchel strap over my shoulder and   
followed the nurse into the hall.  
  
"Are you sure that you're ready to leave, Ruka-sama?" The nurse was young   
and always telling me how I was her favorite patient, but her concern wasn't just   
for her pleasure. I could feel the urge in my throat, but fought back the cough. I   
blinked back the leaking tears of discomfort and tried to give her a winning   
smile.  
  
"Don't worry about me, Kiki-chan." My voice was light and playfully cracked.   
She didn't seem to notice my discomfort and accepted my decision.  
  
"It won't be the same without you." She handed me the proper forms and a pen   
at the desk as I signed myself out of her maternal protection. "Take care."  
  
I blinked rapidly knowing that I could not repress my discomfort for much   
longer and again gave her my closed eyes grin. Turning quickly, I took rather   
stiff steps toward the door. I was expecting a taxi to take me back to the   
Academy and was eager to collapse in the back seat.   
  
"Are you going to return to the dueling club?" I heard Kiki-chan call after me,   
she's still reluctant to let me out of her sight.  
  
"Most likely." I tried to keep my voice normal. The dueling club was the only   
reason why I was going back . . .  
  
"You might want to start slow." Kiki dropped her eyes and began to play with   
her fingers nervously, "Don't over exert yourself, Ruka-sama. When you're back   
in top form, I'll have to come watch you spar."  
  
"Of course." I watched her face turn pinker as I gave my consent. She darted   
off in the opposite direction. I hurried toward the street, I could already feel my   
legs wobble. Although this time it was from sheer nervousness. I was going to   
see her again.  
  
I was going to see Arisugawa Jury.  
  
Jury:  
  
"From where I stand--the truth isn't black and white."  
  
I took a step backward and let the girl attempt her first offensive stroke.  
  
"Alone we live. And die."  
  
Her wrist was weak, but a simple twist of my sword did nothing more than   
deflect the first thrust. I allowed her to try again. Waiting patiently.  
  
"We love. And fight."   
  
I could hear her breathing through the practicing masks. Her legs were shaking   
from holding her stance for several minutes. Determining that she knew her   
lessons well enough for that day, I leaned forward and twisted her sword from   
her limp wrist. Winning the match.   
  
She stood up straight, discouraged but she had gone farther than any of her   
previous matches. The girl might win a beginners' match in the league   
championships if she can learn endurance.  
  
"Breath after breath we carry this mortal coil--safe for tomorrow."  
  
"Next." My voice snapped harshly. Discipline and trust were a delicate balance   
to establish while acting as captain of the dueling team, but they would only be   
truly tested if I revealed their weaknesses. That was what the captain was   
expected to do for the team members. Train them to grow stronger. Set them   
free from their limitations. And to do that, I allowed no limitations for myself.  
  
Annoyed, I waited for the next duelist. There was some sort of rustling among   
the waiting teammates. My eyes quickly appraised the waiting faces. Miki.   
What was taking him so long?  
  
A taller figure interrupted my appraisal of Miki's delay. Lean and masculine, he   
wore a complete practice uniform. Who was this? The body movement was   
less arrogant than Saionji, lacking the stiff confidence of Touga. I sensed a   
gentleness in the steps, something familiar.  
  
Curious, I accepted the challenge and slipped my mask back on. Most training   
duels, I appraised my opponents dueling history and planned my tactics   
appropriately. Watching him lift his saber and lightly place his feet, I adopted a   
new battle strategy--anticipate nothing and react. Leaving nothing to   
calculations nor luck, I relied on instinct. In the best fights, I hardly realized that   
I was holding a sword at all.   
  
And he was gentle, stern and confident, but like a skilled dancer. How long had   
it been since I had danced? Instead, standing alone, leaning against the wall,   
arms folded, watching others.  
  
Then I noticed a teasing slant to his shoulders. His sword was playing with   
mine--accepting neither the role of the defense or attack. Letting me decide.   
Who was this? Making allowances for me?  
  
Curious and frustrated, I let go of my instincts and chose to strike. With speed   
like a thought, I lunged--and in the same moment I felt a stern prick to my heart.   
He had won.  
  
A battle of discipline and trust. I was not the captain. This man was.   
  
Having taken off our masks, I saw. His smile, playful and kind. His eyes   
settling on my own after re-appraising every feature. The captain was re-sizing   
his duelist after letting me grow in his absence. How long had it been? A year   
now? A year and a half?  
  
"You still bowl better than you duel." His voice was teasing and low, meant   
only for my ears. I could see his legs lose their lightness and weigh heavily in   
on the floor as he spoke. No one else could have heard him anyway with the   
buzz of surprised voices from every direction. Tsuchiya Ruka had returned.  
  
"Captain." I answered.   
  
Shiori:  
  
"Do I dare. Oh do I dare follow?"  
  
It was not like Jury to let someone beat her in a duel. I watched from above and   
wondered who this man was that could teach her a lesson in her own sport. It's   
so odd to see a man have any control over Jury--after all, she wasn't one to let   
anyone have power over her. Except me, but that was another story.  
  
"Through the footsteps my whole body hears . . ."  
  
He must be very strong indeed. I tried to remember his name. I had watched   
Jury duel before--once, when I had been humoring her. I remember how soft   
her eyes had been while the orange sunset light bathed the practice room the   
color of Jury's hair. As the last of her teammates had left, she had chatted on   
about how discipline only worked when there was trust. And how both of those   
elements were taught to her by the previous captain. I had laughed when she   
mentioned trust. What had happened to trusting in miracles? Could Jury trust?   
What had been the captain's name . . . I slipped into the locker room and decided   
that the locker nearest to Jury's might reveal that information.  
  
"Beating on my heart like a feather . . ."  
  
My heart was pounding as I caressed the name carved on the locker's seal.   
Tsuchiya Ruka. His name was Ruka and he had some sort of power. He was   
more powerful than Jury even. And there was Jury's locker right next to his . . .  
  
"Beating of a moment til I disappear . . ."  
  
I heard the footsteps behind me, irregular--like a limp or someone trying to be   
quiet. I inhaled loudly and spun around hitting a locker with my arm as it   
whirled out from my body. The metal door swung outward and I leaned back to   
avoid getting hit--noticing a shine of silver as a dueling sword fell out toward   
the ground. I caught it nimbly, noticed that my pursuer was none other than the   
young man who had bested Jury, and promptly burst into tears.  
  
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." I stammered, hoping he hadn't been watching me for   
long. Clever men like to know they're powerful. I curled both of my arms   
tightly around the sword--it was chilly to touch, but I clung to it like it was the   
boy himself.   
  
"What are you doing?"   
  
I glanced up at him through teary eyes and was a bit taken back. He was clever,   
one arm sternly braced against his hip and his eyes unashamed of my tears. He   
noticed the sword and I scrambled for an excuse.  
  
"Oh my." His voice was artificially friendly, but interested. "You must have   
polished this blade every day waiting for me to return."  
  
"I've . . . I'm sorry. Yes, I've polished it for you. You see, I'm sorry." I   
implored him for mercy, giving him the upper hand in the relationship again. If   
he can conquer Jury, I was certainly making myself no trouble.  
  
I absorbed his every word so that I could answer him appropriately, "Every day   
since you left. I'm sorry . . . " I let my voice trail off, choked on a tear, and   
surrendered the sword to him with my gaze firmly fixed on the ground. The   
very picture of servitude seeking out the most powerful person to please.  
  
"I should reward you for taking good care of what is mine." His voice was laced   
with pointed meaning. Clever boys think they know everything. Although, I   
must admit, I was a bit startled when--to show his gratitude--he grabbed me by   
the waist and put his tongue down my throat. Some men are incredibly easy to   
catch. He didn't even know my name.  
  
Ruka:  
  
"From where I stand, the truth isn't black and white . . ."  
  
"Welcome back to the Academy." Touga appeared from nowhere and matched   
his pace to my own. I paid particular attention to my own footfall, after my   
match with Jury I had felt a little sore. My body remembered how and it had   
been exhilarating to actually duel with her again. Almost as if I were dueling by   
instinct, dancing. "Couldn't stay away from the dueling could you?"  
  
I glanced sideways at him. It'd been over a year since Touga had last visited me   
in the hospital. He had informed me that the election had made him President   
this year. Not that I was terribly surprised. He had his eye on my seat ever   
since the dueling for the Rose Bride began, my illness had only made his ascent   
all the more easy. I hated to think about what he might have plotted otherwise.   
I wondered if he were sizing me up now--to see if I were a threat.  
  
"Alone we live and die . . ."  
  
I coughed into my hand--a slip, I hadn't meant to and hurriedly turned it into a   
sharp laugh. Touga stopped. I stopped.   
  
"I don't suppose you think you're going to duel Tenjou Utena now, as well."  
  
Relieved, I grasped at the changed subject. "Utena? Is she's the new duelist?   
I've heard rumors."  
  
"She was able to defeat Jury." Touga added a curious twist in his tone as he   
mentioned Jury's name. He suspected the true reason of my return, I was sure.  
  
"We love and fight . . ."  
  
I was stunned. "She isn't in the dueling tournament . . . I would have seen her   
name."  
  
"No," Touga leaned against the nearby fence. I shuffled my feet, feeling a tad   
dizzy with the rush of information. Things had changed so much. "She has   
something else on her side, the spirit of Dios."  
  
"I see," My mind was whirling, I really couldn't see much of anything. "Have   
you dueled with Utena?" The edges of my vision were turning dark. After I   
spoke I concentrated on my breathing, but tried to hear the rest of the story as   
well.   
  
"Breath after breath we carry this mortal coil . . ."  
  
Touga had not replied. Instead, he turned away from me. And then, slowly,   
walked away as if I weren't even there. I put out my hand to brace myself   
against the fence. Suddenly I could feel the cold sweat around my hairline. Had   
he lost? Had he fought?   
  
Uncertain as to why Touga would have left so abruptly, I was content that no   
one had to see me like this.   
  
My thoughts wandered: Was there nothing that I could do to earn her favor?   
Would she always be so sternly tied to her past?  
  
My fevered mind throbbed against my skull. I pressed it against the chain links.   
If I could not get her attention by normal means, maybe I would use the girl. If   
it is the same girl from her past. Just to get her to look at me.  
  
"Circles of sand are washed out into the sea."  
  
If Jury was going to be blind to everything but the lingering object of her   
affection, then I would block that view.  
  
I might just have to revolutionize the world. For Jury.  
  
"Just as we slip on through . . . to eternity."  
  
Jury:  
  
Again. I didn't know how it happened. But again. I felt this terror every time I   
saw Shiori. In the morning, she looked different. Her lips--so casual, seemed   
very determined. To her circle of friends she might appear more conversational-  
-but I noticed how her jaw, near her ear, was clenched tighter. It made her look   
so much more attractive, that element of control. And it made me catch my   
breath. What had happened?  
  
"Breath after breath we carry this mortal coil . . ."  
  
She didn't even look at me as we passed. I couldn't look at her. But I heard her   
words.   
  
"Just wait until you meet Ruka, did I tell you what he did in the locker room?   
He's so serious about me."  
  
My heart stopped working completely, and all I could think was, "Funny. I don't   
need my heart to keep on walking. How long have I been breathing just like   
this?"  
  
I tried to push the questions, the terrible thoughts, the . . . imagined . . . images   
from my mind. But as I walked to the practice room in the late afternoon, I   
couldn't deny that I had seen them, both of them, together. Ruka. And Shiori.   
Walking arm in arm--in the open. So quickly, how could I lose her again--so   
quickly?  
  
Arm in arm. What did that mean? Didn't Anthy take Utena's arm upon   
occasion? Didn't Touga take every girl's arm? That didn't mean anything.   
Perhaps Ruka was like one of them. Although, I dreaded the thought of Touga   
taking Shiori and felt a queer shiver down my spine.   
  
The shiver didn't stop. It was like dueling intuition. And immediately, I knew--  
rather, I sensed something to my left. I lowered my eyes for one moment,   
dreading what I would turn and see.  
  
Arm in arm. Nothing more. There they were. Arm in arm. Transfixed, I   
watched. I felt my jaw first go slack and then tense. My teeth tight together.   
  
Shiori tipped back her head and didn't move. She just waited, her eyes closed,   
her slim body pressed against Ruka--who was taking his time. His face so close   
to hers. Close enough to be breathing each other's breath. For the second time   
that day, my heart threatened to stop . . . and this time I couldn't move.  
  
Shiori. Her neck up stretched, white, delicate. I swallowed hard. I had to   
watch.   
  
I had to wonder.   
  
What she felt like.  
  
When he kissed her.  
  
I could almost imagine. I had had dreams. That we were near the fountain.   
And I had taken her arm as she walked away from me. That I had encircled her   
shoulders with my other arm and pulled her in as close. That I had the courage   
to tell her exactly what I thought about her. To tear down the distance that had   
grown in the past years when I had lost her. While I had dreamed . . .  
  
Then my heart began to pound when I realized. Ruka had seen me. He knew.   
He knew how I felt about Shiori--he must have deduced as much. I had been so   
open to him in my first years at this Academy. We had been allies in the   
Student Council . . .   
  
Anger burned away whatever tears I might have shed. There were no such   
things as friends. And I would never receive my miracle.  
  
Shiori:  
  
God, the way he handled me--chaste at first and then, when he decides to--  
rough. Almost like he hated me, and that's good. He thought he was clever.   
Well, I let him think he's powerful--for all I cared. I just like the way it makes   
Arisugawa look at me. From the burn of her eyes. I would swear she was   
undressing me right there.   
  
She would hold me like a kitten any other day. But I'm not her pet and it was   
about time for her to realize that. I was a tiger and I chose who I would purr for.  
  
During the day, I was a princess letting Ruka walk me around like a trophy. It   
was so enjoyable to hear the girls squeal. The new boy was gone already. Half   
of them didn't realize Ruka belonged at their Academy more than I did.   
  
And at night, well, this princess wasn't cheap--but it wasn't unpleasant to play a   
bit. He was a bit ritualistic--"let's meet by the fountain after class." I figured he   
would be on his way to dueling practice, and what would it hurt if Jury saw us   
anyway?   
  
Then he had broken the ritual one day, mid-kiss. He had smiled at me and   
seemed strangely satisfied. "Later," he had whispered, then squeezed my fingers   
in each of his cold hands until they became uncomfortable. "Come here,   
tonight. After nine."   
  
I blew on them after he left. Watching his lean form walk toward the dueling   
room. Whatever did this clever boy have in mind?   
  
Curious, anyway, I hurried back. The sun was gone and so were the students by   
this point. The good students, that was.   
  
"Ruka?" I said hesitantly. Not recognizing the shape in the shadows.   
  
No, Touga. He smiled at me in a way that made me feel like he knew all about   
me. I was sure Jury wouldn't have told anyone. I wasn't sure if Ruka knew the   
president--but Ruka was my toy. He didn't know anything about the real me.  
  
But Touga. He might be able to guess. I smiled, putting on my bashful face. "I   
thought I was going to meet . . ."  
  
Touga said something. Raising his hand to his neck. I barely heard him. I   
stepped closer. "Can't you hear it?" He whispered, then more quietly, "You can   
hear it . . ."  
  
I stopped. Uncertain, and a little afraid of Touga's strange conversation.   
"Where's Ruka? What's that?" I did hear something. "Ruka?" I asked, letting a   
little tremble enter my voice.   
"Come with us," Touga said, as I saw the red car pull up. Ruka was there,   
waiting. This must have been what he meant. Another man drove the car.   
Perhaps I was getting into something a little over my head. Ruka--I could   
handle. Three of them . . .  
  
"Get in." Ruka said, neither kindness or unkindness entering his flat tone.   
  
"Let us show you the ends of the world."  
  
I sat in the back with Ruka. I really didn't care what happened to me, for some   
reason riding in this car, going this fast, with the wind combing through my hair   
. . . this was exhilarating enough. At this pace I would never slow down enough   
to worry myself about coincidental troubles.  
  
I was introduced to Ruka the duelist. I half listened to the story, the goal. It was   
the glamour that attracted me.   
  
"Would you act as my Bride?" Ruka asked, still looking ahead. The wind   
blowing his hair straight back out of his eyes. They were closed. "To   
revolutionize the world. To make eternity our own."  
  
The car pitched forward, faster, with his words. I gasped, my head was pulled   
back at an odd angle--not yet uncomfortable. I immediately closed my eyes and   
a vision passed my thoughts.  
  
Jury.  
  
Ruka:  
  
Jury.   
  
I felt the car snap forward. I could not go back if I wanted her. I had to do this,   
and somehow--win or lose the duel--I had to win Jury. A gasp slipped past my   
lips, my body trembled--reminding me of my limited time. I felt pain.  
  
"A flame of love is burning . . . always . . ."  
  
I carried that pain in my body even as I introduced myself to Tenjou Utena. It   
was no surprise to find her in the rose garden with Anthy. I smiled at the   
smaller girl. She smiled back, with a pause. She knew why I was there.  
  
"Oh hi." Utena blinked and smiled. "You were the captain of the dueling team.   
We haven't met, I'm Tenjou Utena."  
  
"I know." Raising my hand I showed her my ring. Immediately, I saw a shadow   
cloud her vision. Interesting, was she this determined. She had her reasons for   
fighting, I had mine. I put the matter from my mind in order to present the issue   
at hand. "I'll meet you in the dueling arena after school." I gave Anthy one last,   
curious glance.  
  
In the more playful, earlier, days of the duels, I had kept the Rose Bride for a   
while. In fact, it wasn't until after I left that Saionji claimed the Bride as his   
own. She had always struck me as very peculiar. Her loyalties changing in a   
flash as the duel was complete. I didn't care for her much--but the path to   
revolution was kept in her.   
  
I did wonder about Utena. What motivated her to keep the Bride? What   
revolution did she seek?  
  
There were no more answers as I watched the trim girl stand on the opposite   
side of the arena. Her stance was strong, but too planted--dependent on the   
ground. Nimbleness was not her strength then. I watched the Bride rest her   
fingers over Utena's heart. So it was true. The champion played with her own   
sword.   
  
I wondered how the blade would strike against my own. Shiori's eyes met mine   
for a moment before I winced. My body felt incredibly warm, and the heat   
began to concentrate itself where Shiori's fingers touched my chest. Her fingers   
cut my soul like cold knives, I didn't feel relief until she had slid the spirit blade   
free from my body.   
  
Quickly, I took my sword from Shiori's hands. I had felt nervous sweat play   
around the base of my neck as I realized that this girl had been carrying my soul   
in her hands. My confidence returned when I took a step toward the champion.   
Complete again, I could face Utena.  
  
"You're not a duelist." I scolded, falling into the role of captain, instructor.   
"You don't hold the blade properly. You're elbow is stiff."  
  
"This isn't practice." Utena retorted. "I take this very seriously."  
  
"And so do I." I lifted my blade, it felt strangely like an extension of my own   
arm. I could actually feel the movement of the sword. "But you are not well   
matched. I am the better swordsman."  
  
"Quit talking and show me." The girl challenged me, and taking the advantage   
propelled herself forward. She had speed. Base talent. I deflected the stroke   
easily, letting her stumble to my side. Shivering as she fell. I had felt my sword   
touch hers. And something. There had been something that passed between us.  
  
She spun around, her eyes flashed. Had she felt it as well? What new level of   
dueling was this? What had happened while I was gone? Disguising my   
curiosity, I continued to vocally appraise her amateur skill. Could I distract her?  
  
We sparred briefly. I felt laziness settling over me. She wasn't a threat to my   
skill, but what lended itself to her numerous victories?   
  
I spoke as much aloud, "To defeat Saionji and Touga--you've had a run of luck   
and comparable skill. But before them, I was the champion."  
  
A sparkle of lights and I wondered if I'd provoked the spirit of victory that   
pushed this girl beyond her obvious limitations. Glancing at the Bride, I saw her   
praying. I lifted my eyebrows. And there it was. The spirit of Dios. I was   
defeated.  
  
Unconcerned, I thought I understood. "Interesting." I glanced at the rose petals   
scattered around my feet. The sword in my hand had disappeared at some point,   
but I felt no different--just limited in my perception to see it anymore. "Her   
prayers save you. The spirit of Dios strengthens you." I glanced at Shiori   
ruefully. Her love was wasteful and selfish, unmotivational. Because . . . "My   
bride was to blame. I see now, the Prince is only as good as the Princess."  
  
"What else could I have done?" Shiori stamped her foot. "I did everything for   
you, you alone. I polished your sword . . ."  
  
"Ah, but that wasn't my sword." I felt nothing for this girl. "Clever ad-lib on   
your part."  
  
Utena stood straighter. I had her attention. She could be taught, educated--  
discipline and trust, Utena understood those things. If only the circumstances   
that brought me to this place were different, less . . . urgent. Less powerful.  
  
I walked away from the battlefield without looking at Shiori. I couldn't pretend   
anymore. Love was too powerful. For me, it would only be Jury. Always.  
  
Jury:  
  
"Love is burning . . . always."  
  
I walked to the practice room with my eyes straight ahead--looking neither to   
the left nor to the right. I couldn't trust anything--not even the path that was   
straight in front of me. As long as the ground stayed firm under my feet--I   
would not fall. As long as one foot set down in front of the other, and then the   
next.  
  
However, I could not stop my ears.  
  
"Did you hear? Shiori made a fool of herself this morning. Apparently she   
thought things were more serious with Ruka than they were."  
  
"Yeah, did you hear about the locker room?"  
  
"Some girls are just too trusting."  
  
"But it was shameful how she clung to him. It was too good of him not to toss   
her aside and spit."  
  
"Shh. It's Arisugawa."  
  
"She's scary."  
  
My eyes narrowed. I was going to kill him. But, like all of my daydreams, I   
turned back. I had hardly had the ability to speak when I saw her, "Leave him."   
I had told Ruka, "Leave her." But I could say no more. How could I interfere?   
I could not act.  
  
What was I waiting for? Then I saw. I was at Shiori's door. I knocked. I could   
knock, but my heart was long dead.  
  
"What is it?" She looked horrible. Her eyes were stained with dark mascara and   
red rimmed. Her lips were chapped.   
  
"Open the door, Shio--"  
  
"So you can gloat. Laugh?" She sneered through the chain. How I wanted to   
comfort her, if only I could say the words to get her to listen.  
  
Then I was facing the oak door again. Closed. If only I could speak to her.  
  
I spared no words for Ruka.   
  
"What is wrong with her? Why did you leave her?"  
  
"Jury-sa . . ."  
  
"How could you treat anyone so coldly. You said you loved her. You said that   
you wanted her. How would I have let you . . . otherwise . . ." I couldn't read   
the look on his face. I could feel myself panicking. There must be something   
that I could reconcile between them. Something I could do to make Shiori   
happy again. "Don't leave her like this. Not when she cared for you. No one   
should be left like that . . ."  
  
Ruka:  
  
"Love is burning . . . always."  
  
What could I do to comfort her? I had terribly misunderstood Jury's affections.   
Nothing I had done could make her want me. When she had transferred to the   
Academy, I had waited. She wasn't one to move without establishing discipline   
and trust. Permanence and commitment. And I had realized when I had to   
leave, I loved her.  
  
She never came to visit me, and I excused her absence as a test of commitment.   
And I learned what it was to be committed. I felt it every time the doctors   
wanted another series of tests. I saw it every time the medicine was changed.   
There was nothing I wanted more than to see her again. Her aloof diagnosis   
alone could cure my disease. I was in love.  
  
Even Kiki had known as I had faced my decision to leave. "Make sure it's for   
something real, Ruka-san. There are few things more important than your own   
life." It was too late to change my mind then.  
  
But I had failed. There was one thing I couldn't offer her, permanence. All I   
had to offer her was . . . myself.  
  
My heart was beating like an engine and my palms were as sweaty as the back   
of my hair. I knew what I was going to do and it terrified me. Forgetting her   
words, not heeding her protests--I moved on instinct. What else could I do when   
I saw her so near? Loving her so much. I held her against the wall and felt her,   
her heart, pounding in her chest-- her mouth, live beneath my nervous lips.   
  
Then something cold came between us. It felt like a cold blade against my   
chest. It reminded me of the duel.   
  
Jury pushed me away, but not before I could find what that coldness had been.   
  
What she could not give, I could not take. I let the locket drop on the ground.   
She was still wearing it. The locket to her heart, she had called it once in   
passing.   
  
Frantically, Jury fell to her knees and swept the locket up with a furious cry.   
"How dare you?" She whispered hoarsely. Her eyes brimmed with tears, but   
when they met mine I saw something I had never expected. If my knees had not   
been locked in fear, I would have fallen to the floor.  
  
She hated me.  
  
Coolness settled over my thoughts. No air moved in the stuffy, dark practice   
room, yet I felt a chill settle into my words. I had nothing.  
  
"Do you really hate me so much?" I heard myself ask, dumbly--distantly.   
"Have I done something so terribly to you?"  
  
"If you only knew . . ." Jury hissed.  
  
If she only knew . . . my fingers trembled. I had to comfort her. Somehow. But   
how could I do that after this?  
  
"Fight me." She remained curled on the ground, clutching the locket--crushing   
it against her heart. "Duel with me. If you win . . . I 'll do whatever you want."  
  
How could I? How could I ask her to be my Bride now? She did not love me.   
But I . . . I had never loved anyone else.   
  
Jury:  
  
"Love is a burning . . . always."  
  
What in hell was I fighting for? I had nothing to gain and everything to lose.   
And did I trust myself in Ruka's hands? But I felt it--burning. Once he had   
touched me. When I had felt my back against the wall and his hands . . . when   
he had broken my trust. I was not to be taken advantage of--and yet. I was   
standing in the private place where we had dueled so many times before--when I   
believed that he still had something to teach me. When I was willing to learn   
from him.  
  
It wasn't even a duel for Shiori's honor. At the thought, my head fell. Did   
Shiori have honor? Why did I not save her when I still could have spoken?   
When I had the courage to think that I might speak?  
  
I felt my courage slip again as my blade turned Ruka's in a last effort to keep   
afloat in the match I had challenged him to.   
  
"What do you want?" He asked as he steped to one side, letting me stumble past   
like a fool.  
  
"You've gotten sloppy, Jury." His voice was solemn, echoing the hours of   
instruction he had given her in the past. "For you, dueling should be a passion--  
an instinct."  
  
I choked, narrowly saving myself from a hit by his blade. After dancing with   
him so many times before, this felt clumsy and desperate. What had I lost?   
Why wasn't it the same? Why couldn't I win?--but there was no chance of that.   
I could tell by the way that Ruka allowed me to move his sword away from my   
heart. He was being somewhat gentler.  
  
I couldn't understand that.   
  
"Enough." Ruka took a step back and then with a speed I could only expect   
from my captain--he took my heart. My dead heart.  
  
I crumpled to the ground again. What now? Would I never have satisfaction?  
  
"Jury." He didn't move when he said my name. He didn't touch me. "Can you   
hear it?"  
  
"What is it?" I said, frightened. I had lost. I had promised . . .  
  
"If you have not completely lost your desire . . ."  
  
Desire? Then I heard Touga. Had he been watching? Was Touga in this with   
Ruka? Was this another of his schemes against Utena--did it have nothing to do   
with me at all?  
  
"Come with us, Jury." He held out his hand. "To the Ends of the World."  
  
"What?" Had he really said what I heard?  
  
"You said you would do anything I asked."  
  
Ruka:  
  
"Always . . . the song is of the planets."  
  
Our dueling had not been like dancing. The rhythm between us had been just   
enough off. I won too easily and hated myself for it. But I still wanted her.   
Still wanted . . . her. But I didn't have the nerve to sit next to her for this ride.   
  
"What is this, Ruka? Where are you taking me?"  
  
Without a word I played the telephone messages, "Tsuchiya-senpai, I have only   
you." "Tsuchiya-senpai, I have only you." "Tsuchiya-senpai, I have only you."  
  
"Why do you torment her?"  
  
Torment. No. Why do you let her her torment you . . . She's too good. She   
doesn't understand that I love her--not Shiori.  
  
"I will help you fight Tenjou Utena. Together we can defeat the Champion and   
her Bride. You can achieve what you want then. The power of miracles."  
  
"I never said I wanted that." Jury's voice turned bitter and coldly level. "The   
only thing I would want would be to set Shiori free from you. But I will play   
along to prove you wrong."  
  
I let the wind chill the dampness around my eyes. There was absolutely nothing,   
nothing I could do right. But I could not leave her.  
  
Resigned, I said calmly, "It's a deal."  
  
Jury:  
  
And I admire Utena. But the song is of the planets. I must fight her. I watch--  
amazed momentarily, by how gently Anthy holds Utena as she takes the sword.   
What affection between them must have brought them so far. I let sparks of   
envy cover my amazement. How cruelly the world dealt my own cards. To   
have no one.  
  
Ruka touched one of my shoulders lightly then let his fingers touch my cheek.   
Letting me know what was to come. I remembered the pain of the first time and   
wondered how Utena could stand it--surrendering her own sword over and over.   
And here, I was going to let Ruka take mine.  
  
"Will you do it?" I asked, at this moment resigned for what was to come.  
  
But instead of the pain, I only felt my insides warm with something like   
pleasure. I glanced at Ruka as he held my shoulders securely. His modest eyes   
were not what I had expected, he kept his palm over my heart searching for my   
soul sword. I felt his fingers against my chest--a reassuring permanence. It was   
incredibly different from the last time when Shiori stole my sword. I closed my   
eyes against the sparkling glow that was appearing between us.  
  
"Jury." I heard his voice. I could feel him holding my sword so delicately.   
"Your sword."  
  
I opened my eyes and saw him holding it out. I could feel his fingers tremble as   
I stared at him. What did that feeling from him mean?  
  
Nevertheless, he had betrayed me. I took the sword and turned to face Utena   
who stood stiffly. The younger girl's balance had always been her weakness, I   
knew. She was fast, but not as fast as I could be. My sword vibrated with   
strength. I had never fought with my own sword before. It was almost like an   
extension of my own mind. I could sense it's exact location with a thought.  
  
"Don't back down, Jury."  
  
And somehow, through the sword--I felt Ruka's support as well. I narrowed my   
eyes. I didn't need him. I didn't care about the revolution, and I would show   
him exactly how I felt.  
  
Utena was startled by my first attack. She countered my movements by   
defending herself more than she would typically. But I meant business. If she   
would not attack me, I would take her rose. I was not going to be toyed with in   
the dueling arena.   
  
I made a perfect thrust, but pulled short before cutting the girl's cheek. I let my   
blade hover a moment to make my point. I meant to be taken seriously. Only   
then would I make my final move.  
  
Utena's eyes flashed. The spirit of Dios was possessing her. Inspiring her. My   
sword vibrated even as my heart raced. Ruka? I could feel his spirit giving me   
the speed to dodge Utena's final attack.   
  
And she missed. Even with the spirit of Dios she had failed. Somehow with   
Ruka's help. . . . and then I felt a shadow fall over my spirit. The sword was   
disappearing along with Ruka's presence. I could feel . . . no, I couldn't feel.  
  
I raised my hand to my throat. The locket. The locket was gone. It was gone.  
  
I stumbled a few steps, numb. I felt the ground underneath me melt and my legs   
wobbled. Gone.   
  
Emptiness.  
  
I crushed the rose with my fist.   
  
Sympathetically, the sky began to cloud over. And then the rain. I shivered,   
feeling eyes on my back. I couldn't cry, but my face was covered with wetness   
anyway.  
  
"Jury." It was Ruka. My heart skipped a beat. His voice . . . "Don't worry."  
  
I heard him choke, a small rasp. "You will have your wish."  
  
When I turned around, Ruka was gone.  
  
Ruka:  
  
Is it too late? Too late to find myself some more time. To find courage. To try   
again.   
  
For Jury--I would stop the planets. I sit in the back of the taxi watching the   
lights blur back--trying not to think of other wild car rides. The rain makes the   
tires sound slick and further blurs my vision. I look at my hands instead--  
shadowed by the dark.  
  
I had touched her. Her sword. So beautiful.   
  
And when I had touch it. I knew there was no way that I could have hidden my   
true feelings for her. Holding her soul like that--I could have been nothing less   
than honest. I love her.  
  
Whatever will Kiki-chan say when I return to the hospital, "Are you sure your   
reason was good enough to turn down an experimental procedure? Will there be   
enough time now?"  
  
And I would answer, "I would never have died happy if I had not seen her again.   
Not been able to set her free. From me."  
  
***  
  
Ruka leaned heavily against the seat, his legs felt like jello. How could he duel   
again with legs like these? And his arms were too heavy to even hold her in a   
dance. To let instinct take over. To love.  
  
Was the wetness on his face still rain? Or the fever perhaps?   
  
"The dance is to the rhythm of the rain . . . where everyone is coming from is   
coming to . . . "  
  
No, he tried to smile, but his face was too tired. How far away was the hospital?   
A second could have been an hour without her.  
  
Tears. They were tears.   
  
". . . and birth is just breath after breath."  
  
Was he even breathing anymore? The boy felt an incredible warmth that   
reminded him of the pleasure he had protecting her soul sword--even if simply   
for that moment. But who would keep his soul for him . . .  
  
. . . when it was gone?  
  
***  
  
"Did you hear? Do you know? They say that the captain of the dueling team   
died last night."  
  
"He knew he shouldn't have left the hospital, but there was some shining thing   
he couldn't live without."  
  
"He was such a thoughtful young man, but his disease was without cure! A   
tragedy!"  
  
Jury heard them, but was only beginning to understand all that had happened.   
Her spirit somehow felt comforted. The locket's chain had broken. And as   
painful as that had been--something else had grown.   
  
"Jury-chan . . ."  
  
She glanced back. Her heart pounding with surprise.   
  
"Ruka?"   
  
It couldn't have been.  
  
"I wanted . . . to ask you something," Jury smiled to herself, a sad--wistful   
smile. "When I see you again . . ." For some reason, ever since her soul sword   
returned to her body--she had felt curiously warm. "What miracle would you   
have wished for?" A faint sparkle of commitment to love openly.   
  
The sun warmed her cheek. Something permanent--she was free.  
  
"It was a feeling I never could put into words . . . but my heart just kepts   
whispering to me."  
  
"And there was you . . ."  
  
the end.  
  
(Questions? Comments? Criticism? Send it all to stormy812@hotmail.com .   
More Utena fics to come? Ask--you might inspire me. You can find me also at   
http://www.geocities.com/starbuck819/ and   
http://ham.and.cheese.on.rye.sandwich.net/cgi-bin/yabb/YaBB.pl) 


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